Delicacies
by johnny3gud
Summary: It's a special day in the City of Light, and Serena has a delicious plan to win Ash's affection - but has she created a recipe for love, or for disaster?


**Author's Note:** …and now for something completely different.

I've been itching for a chance to write an Ash/Serena story for a while now, and with the holiday today (and some of the recent developments in the anime), it seemed like the perfect time to do it. I've had a lot of fun writing this one. This story gave me the opportunity to explore some vastly different character dynamics, points of view, and themes. I've never written anything quite like it before.

I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

* * *

_**Delicacies**_

Although many people don't ever stop to think about it, there is a difference between _cooking_ and _baking_. Cooking is the general preparation and heating of foods to make them more enjoyable and digestible; baking is a _type_ of cooking that focuses on preparing breads, cakes, and pastries. For those who know me, though, the difference is simple: I'm good at baking. Cooking, not so much.

This is a fact that I am acutely aware of as I grimace at the skillet before me now. Fennekin sits atop the counter next to the stove and watches me with great interest. This is so different from our usual activities in the kitchen. The most Fennekin has ever seen me do with a stove is melt chocolate in a pot for frosting. I don't think she's ever seen me use a skillet for anything. I don't think I've _touched_ once since I left home - and for good reason.

My heart is racing. I'm wielding a spatula as if it were a weapon. I know Fennekin can tell that I'm nervous. I can see it in her eyes, so big and expressive. I wish I could explain to her why I feel this way, but that explanation would go on for hours. The batter was simple enough - wheat flour, melted butter, a well-beaten egg, milk, just a pinch of salt, a dash of cinnamon - a mixture that the two of us could make while sleepwalking. The trouble is what we're going to make from the batter:

Crêpes.

They are known all over the world as both an iconic delicacy of the Kalos region and a highly delicate preparation. If you combine their notorious difficulty with my inexperience with this kind of cooking, who I'm making them for, and why, you'll get the picture.

I can follow a recipe, but I don't _know _this new recipe like the one for my Pokepuffs. I don't _know _a skillet, either. I don't know how evenly it heats, how its contents will stick to the surface, or how fast it will cook. I also don't know how these crêpes will taste when they're finished, even if I make them correctly. I don't know if _he _will like them. I don't even know how he feels about me.

While I stand there, watching a pat of butter slowly melt and disperse across the surface of this crucible of iron, something funny occurs to me. Well, not _ha ha _funny, but it's funny how little good following recipes has done for me in the past. My macaron and Pokepuff recipes are self-made, not copied from a cookbook, but I don't just mean baking recipes. I mean recipes for life. Staying at home and following my mother's wishes did me no good. Being a quiet, reserved, passive girl has done me no good. And most of all, waiting for Ash to make the first move has done me no good.

After he won his gym battle in Coumarine City, he told me something that stuck with me. He shared with me the words that Ramos shared with him. They've been on my mind almost constantly, especially since my loss at the showcase. Ramos told him:

_If you only focus on what's right before your eyes, you'll lose sight of the really important things. First, you need to calm yourself. If you observe calmly and carefully, the important things will become visible._

I know that Ramos is right. I've been trying to follow those words, but it's hard to stay calm when half of the time Ash speaks to me I feel weak in the knees, and the other half of the time my face turns the color of my skirt. It's tough to remember sometimes that things don't depend on every single word we say to each other and every single gesture we make toward each other. There's no need for me to over-analyze every little interaction we have.

I've been trying to be more assertive recently, too, but… it's hard! It's just not me. I've never been that way naturally, but I've really been trying. I came so, _so _close to grabbing Ash's hand while we were on our little shopping "date" in Coumarine City, but it was just too much too soon. I couldn't will myself to make that giant leap. One step at a time, I told myself. Then he gave me that beautiful blue ribbon, and it took every ounce of willpower I had to stop myself from jumping into his arms. Believe me, I very much _wanted _to lose my calm at the time.

So yesterday, Ash defeated Clemont at the gym in Prism Tower, here in Lumiose City. And now, here I am in the Pokemon center's kitchen, early in the morning, making crêpes for Ash as a celebratory breakfast for him. While we were all congratulating him on his victory yesterday, I realized that I had a perfect, once in a lifetime chance, because _today_ is a very special day. You know the one - it's the one day a year dedicated to romance, and here we are, in the most romantic city in the world.

I can't pass this chance up. It's now or never. I got Bonnie to agree to help me get plenty of alone time with Ash today. I am going to do this, finally.

…and at least, if I fail, home isn't so far away.

I've got the whole day planned. This morning, I'm making a quiet, romantic breakfast for two. I've even got a two-person table set up in the center's dining hall by the window. It gives us a view of the river, and it's complete with a tablecloth, dining ware, and a vase of roses. Then, once Ash and I are done with our meal, Bonnie is going to complain and whine to Clemont that she wants to take Dedenne and the other Pokemon to a boutique to be groomed. She, Clemont, and Ash, along with all of our Pokemon are going to go there and be distracted for a while. Meanwhile, I'm going to pretend to not be feeling well and stay behind, which will give me plenty of time to bake macarons and then freshen up.

After a few hours have passed, Bonnie is going to suggest to Ash that he should come back here and check on me. When he does, he's going to find me "feeling better" and looking the best I ever have, and I'm going to make him come along with me for another outing like the one we had in Coumarine City. We're going to see everything we can in this beautiful city, and then at the end of the day, we're going to watch the sunset from the top of Prism Tower. That's when I'll give him a gift - the macarons I'm baking for him today. Once I give them to him, if I haven't told him already… I'm telling him how I feel. I am _not_ leaving that tower without doing it. I'll never have a better chance.

If I mess up these crêpes, everything gets started all wrong. So yes, I'm nervous. No surprise there.

The butter has completely melted now, and a thin film of it covers the skillet. It's time. Fennekin watches me as I carefully pour a small amount of batter onto the cooking surface and watch it spread out.

Crêpes are thin, fluffy, and delicate. You can't cook too much batter at once, or else you'll end up with something thick and, well, _not_ a crêpe. The batter smells faintly sweet as it starts to cook, but nowhere near as sweet as the strawberry filling we prepared earlier. The bowl of it sits nearby on the countertop. The pleasant scents combine into a heavenly aroma, and I gently slide my spatula under the half-cooked crêpe and flip it over.

It looks just right, and I am elated. For a moment, I daydream about how I want this day to go. For that dream to come true, this is exactly how it has to start.

But then, I flinch in surprise and I'm jarred from my reverie when I see Ash poke his head through the door, smile widely, and then come walking right in.

"Hey, there you are!" he says. "I knew it had to be you in here when I smelled that awesome smell! What is it?"

I'm temporarily overwhelmed by questions and emotions popping into my head. I can feel myself blushing over his indirect compliment about my cooking, and there's no point in hiding it. I was sure he was still asleep, though. I'd love to know what he's doing here so early, but there's also the more pressing issue of explaining to him that the crêpes are for us - _just _us. It is in this moment that I realize I haven't put any thought into how to tell him.

"Oh, hey Ash!" I say, trying not to sound too surprised. "Good morning!"

"Thanks!" he replies. "I was confused when I woke up and you were gone, but Bonnie told me you would be in here. What's cooking?"

He's wandering over toward me and the stove, and I'm finding myself to be very shy all of the sudden.

"Oh, it's, uh… breakfast!" I say, positioning myself in the way of his line of sight to the skillet, and holding up my spatula as if it explains everything.

"That's awesome! But what are you making?"

I bite down on my lip for a moment. I'm feeling so bashful that I think I may have forgotten how to talk. Forcing myself to get over it, I change my expression into a shy smile.

"They're crêpes," I tell him, relieved that I spoke real words. "They're a special breakfast dish native to Kalos. I made them for us."

The words leave my lips and my mind starts racing over the implications of "us". I see him smiling at me as he realizes this means I'm cooking for him, but before he can say anything, words start spilling out of my mouth, as if a river of confidence finally breached the dam in my head.

"Just the two of us!" I say to him, cheerily. "I wanted to make you a special treat for your victory in your gym battle yesterday. I got up extra early so I could make the crêpes, and I've even got a special table set up for us in the dining hall. It's a cute way to celebrate, don't you think?"

I almost can't believe myself, but yes, I just said that. I just admitted directly to his face that I set up a special breakfast for the two of us because I think it's cute. Apparently, he agrees. He's laughing playfully and has his hand on the back of his neck.

"That's awesome! Thanks so much!" he says. He's grinning from practically ear to ear, and so am I.

"Just give me and Fennekin about ten more minutes, and we'll have everything ready, okay? I'm sure you can find our special table, no problem. It's by the window, set for two, and it's got flowers on it. You can wait for me there!"

"Flowers?"

He's giving me a look, one that tells me he thinks I'm up to something.

"They're pretty!" I say, almost indignantly, placing my wrists on my hips in faux-protest.

Ash just laughs.

"Alright, I'll be out there," he says, waving as he leaves.

I let out a huge breath of relief. That went really well.

I feel wonderful.

* * *

Our breakfast could not have gone any better. I owe a tremendous debt of gratitude to whoever posted that recipe online, because the crêpes were heavenly. Ash loved them, and so did I. The view of the river was gorgeous, and he was just _so _cute as he got fired up talking about his gym battle from yesterday. It was a lovely time.

The best part so far is that Bonnie's tactics have worked flawlessly. Ash and Clemont jumped on board with her idea to go to the boutique with our Pokemon, and everyone believed my excuse that my stomach wasn't feeling well and I needed to lay down. In fact, just to make sure it looked believable to Ash, I ate more than usual at breakfast. It was totally worth it. Those crêpes were amazing, and I regret nothing.

So now it's just me in the kitchen again, nobody else with me, not even Fennekin. Presently, I'm wishing I hadn't sent Fennekin to the boutique along with everyone else, because baking macarons is something I could probably do while blindfolded, and something so routine is conducive to making one's mind race. Mine certainly is.

I can't stop thinking about all the little things I picked up on from talking to Ash this morning. With him, it's impossible to ever know if they mean anything, but I want them to, so badly. He seemed so genuinely appreciative of the whole thing. He complimented my cooking repeatedly, and he even said the roses looked nice. He actually knew that they were roses! I hope he understands what they're supposed to mean. I couldn't quite tell from my reflection in the window, but I'm sure I was red-faced the whole time.

I remember that he paused for a moment when I first mentioned the flowers on the table. I felt like I could see something in his eyes, like he understood what I was trying to express to him. Everyone understands what that kind of gesture means, right? Sure, our roles are kind of reversed from a "normal" situation, because normally he would be the one giving flowers to me, but still… he would _have_ to understand, wouldn't he?

For a moment, I imagine him giving flowers to me. I think I would literally melt. I nearly did when he gave me the ribbon. It was so unexpected, so quirky, so uniquely Ash. He's going to see that ribbon again today. I hope he hasn't already forgotten about it!

Then, for the second time today, I'm badly startled as Ash unexpectedly enters the kitchen. This time, before he can even say anything, I feel myself panicking internally. Something went wrong. This wasn't part of the plan.

"There you are," he says, sounding relieved, like he had been worried. "I was looking all over for you."

"Ash!" I say, quite a bit louder than I intended. As I continue, I soften my voice. "What are you doing here?"

He's walking over to me, and I can see that he looks concerned. I wonder how I look to him. I figure the options are either embarrassed or afraid.

"We were going to have a really long wait at the boutique, so I left Clemont and Bonnie in charge of all the Pokemon and I came back to make sure you were alright."

My eyes widen and my jaw slackens.

"You did?" I ask him in disbelief.

"Yeah, and when I went to the room and you weren't there, I was worried!" he says, now scratching at the back of his neck like he always does when he's a bit embarrassed. "You looked like you were feeling fine at breakfast, so I wanted to make sure you were okay."

I'm flattered by all this, but I know I have to save face.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I just had a bit of an upset stomach, that's all! I tried laying down for a little while, but I couldn't get comfortable, so I thought that maybe it would help if I got up and did something relaxing. So, now I'm making macarons."

There's an ambiguous expression on his face that I can't decipher. Unexpectedly, he places his hand on my shoulder. The feeling sends a shock through my body. "Just don't overdo it, okay? I don't want you to make yourself feel worse."

The giddiness I'm feeling from being in contact with him is tempered by how bad I feel for lying to him. He's being completely genuine, and I've been deceiving him. I can feel myself blushing.

"Okay," I say meekly, nodding in agreement.

We both go silent for a moment. His hand is still on my shoulder, and I'm trying as hard as I can not to shift my eyes and look at it. But then, just as I'm afraid my willpower is about to break, he pulls his hand away and turns it into a fist, pumping it in excitement.

"I know!" he says, caught up in the rush of having an idea. "I'll help you! I can help you make the macarons! You won't have to work so hard!"

So many things are going on in my head right now. This was not the plan. Worse, the part of me that can never take a compliment gracefully really wants to admit that I feel fine and that making macarons is not hard work. There's an undeniable allure to having Ash here with me, though. Cooking together is _such_ a romantic idea for a date…

"Alright, but-"

I hesitate. Picking up on exactly what I was about to mention, Ash finishes my statement for me.

"But I don't really know anything about cooking," he says, nervously rubbing his nose. "I can follow directions, though. I promise!"

My mind devilishly toys with the idea of making him follow my directions. _I'm going to need you to watch carefully, so the first thing I need you to do get close behind me so you can see. Closer, right up against me. That's it. Now, make sure your hands don't get in the way while I'm mixing the ingredients. Put them on my shoulders. Or my hips, if you prefer. Actually, I think I would prefer that, too_…

I can't help but smile at him. He means so well. I'm not sure if the blush on my face is new or if it has been there the whole time.

"Okay," I tell him, almost smirking at him. "But I bet you have no idea how to separate egg whites, do you?"

"I've got no clue what that means," he says. No surprise there.

"It can be tricky," I say to him. "We need quite a bit of this stuff, so watch carefully."

Ash comes in closer, almost hovering over my shoulder. I'm standing at the counter, ready to crack open the egg in my hand. I feel so strangely confident in this moment. This is such an unusual reversal of roles for us. I know exactly what I'm doing, and he doesn't have a clue. I have all the power in this situation.

This is fun! I wonder if this is how he feels around me all the time.

"We have to be careful about opening the egg," I explain. "You can't just knock it on the counter like you normally would. If you do that, the sharp pieces of shell might puncture the yolk. If that happens, the yolk will spill out and mix with the egg white, and then we can't separate the white from the yolk anymore."

Now, I hold the egg up to the side of my mixing bowl. I tap it lightly against the bowl a few times, and a small series of cracks appear on the shell.

"You have to be gentle with it, like that," I continue, narrating my progress. "Carefully, we pry open the shell. Try to break it roughly in half. Once you get it open, you hold both sides of the shell with the broken end up, like cups! The half-shell that doesn't have the yolk in it should only have white, and we pour that into the bowl. Then, we pour the yolk from the other half-shell into the one that's now empty. Try to take as little of the white with it as possible. We pour the white that's left behind into the bowl, and then we keep repeating this until we get as much of it as we can."

I go through a few iterations of moving the yolk from shell to shell, getting a little more of the white each time, then discard what I have left. Eagerly, I reach for my hand towel and clean my fingers.

"It's really sticky, really messy, and kind of gross!" I explain to Ash, sticking my tongue out just a bit. He looks awestruck, as if I've just shown him literal magic.

I hand him an egg and a bowl.

"I've got a few extra eggs. Give it a try!"

Predictably, Ash's first attempt ends in failure. When he tries to break open the shell, the whole thing slips out of his hand and into the bowl as a shattered mess. He seems grossed out by the liquid all over his hands, and he hurries to get a towel of his own. It's adorable.

"Watch again," I say to him, and once more he leans in over me to observe my handiwork. I walk him through the process again. This time, I'm on autopilot, caught up in the idea of having him standing behind me, with his hands laid over mine, letting him feel my motions as I go through the process. I'm not sure how effective it would be, at least not at accomplishing anything other than making me red in the face.

Ash's second attempt also ends in failure, the same way as his first. He can't seem to break open the egg without the whole thing falling apart. I can't help but giggle a little bit, because I struggled the same way when I first did this years ago, and it's cute to watch him have trouble with something that seems so easy to me.

"I can't believe you have to do this every time you make macarons!" he says. "This is way harder than I thought."

"It gets easier with practice," I say. "I've done it tons of times."

Clearly a bit embarrassed with himself, Ash backs away from the counter, cleaning off his hands with his towel.

"If I keep it up, you're going to run out of eggs. Maybe you should finish this part," he says.

"That's okay," I say, smiling at him to reassure him. "This won't take me too long."

For what he lacked in egg-separating ability, Ash made up for it in stirring ability. The part of making macarons that I normally find the most annoying is stirring the batter, because it has to be whipped vigorously to give it an airy texture. Ash, who always has energy to spare, had no trouble at all with beating it into submission with a wooden spoon. He did, however, have some trouble with keeping all of the ingredients in the bowl. Fortunately, when we made the buttercream filling while the biscuits baked, he did a much better job of not spilling things everywhere, so I'm sure I can forgive him - even though he kept trying to _eat_ the filling while we assembled everything.

He has a long way to go if he wants to become anything resembling competent in the kitchen. I hope that we get to do this again. Lots of times.

* * *

I'm looking at myself in the mirror. I'm doing a poor job of remaining calm, and I can see it. Things haven't quite been going according to plan, and it's starting to get to me. I had to get Ash out of here after we finished making the macarons, so I insisted that we needed to serve them with crème brûlée from a particular shop on the other side of the city.

Now I'm waiting for him to return. Anxiously, I should add. He's taking longer to get back here than I thought he would, and it's giving me way too much time to worry.

It's not like I _need _to worry about how I look right now; I've never looked this flawless, and I know it. I don't think I've ever cleaned myself as thoroughly as I did once he left. I brushed my teeth three times in a row, just to be sure. My hair has a sheen that looks like something you would see in a shampoo advertisement. I have it tied up with the blue ribbon Ash gave to me, instead of my normal pink one. I've even swapped out my red skirt for a matching blue one. I don't have a hat that goes with it all, but that's okay. I wouldn't want a hat to distract him from noticing the ribbon.

The aroma of perfume hangs in the air around me. I'm starting to think that I put on too much of it. What can I possibly do about it if I did? I don't have time to shower again! I hope he likes it, because it seems strong… or maybe it's too weak. What if he doesn't like the smell of the strawberry shampoo I used today? Does the perfume cover that up? Will he even notice how my hair smells? It's not like I'm expecting him to bury his nose in it.

Not that I would mind that, though.

I can picture it now. It would be pure bliss, for him wrap his arms around me and hold me tightly, getting _so _close as he takes in the scent of my hair. With him so close, I know I would be tempted to steal a kiss from him. That would be a bit much, though. Maybe, I could sneak a quick peck on his cheek. Maybe he could sneak in one on mine…

Let's be serious, though. Will he notice anything at all? Doubt starts to cloud my mind.

But then, a ray of light breaks through. Ash enters the room, and he sees me in front of the mirror. He's holding a small bag, having completed his false errand. He's quiet for a moment. I can see him looking at me. I can _feel_ his eyes on me.

I turn around to face him, hands coyly behind my back. A good first impression is critical. I give him what I hope is a subtly alluring look.

"Hey! You're back," I say, smiling at him.

I walk over to him, and he still hasn't said anything. He's just looking at me. I dearly hope it's because he's been rendered speechless by my appearance.

"Thanks," I tell him, taking the bag from him.

"Yeah, you're welcome," he says, finally speaking. "You changed while I was gone, huh?"

"I _did_," I say, trying to sound tempting. I don't think it's convincing. Honestly, I'm not sure if it would work on Ash even if I was doing it correctly. I press onward, though, leading him with my question. "Do you like it?"

"Yeah, I do! It looks great on you."

The immediacy and certainty of his answer stuns me. I'm embarrassed by how hard I'm trying to contain my giant smile.

"Thank you," I say to him, shyly.

"Why did you change, though?"

"Because we're going out," I say. For a moment, I wonder if he'll get the implications of _going out_. Probably not, I figure.

"We are?" he says. "Where are we going?"

"We're going shopping!" I tell him. "It's a beautiful day in a beautiful city, and-"

I hesitate. I can see Ash's eyebrow raise just a tiny bit during the momentary pause.

"-and I want to spend it with you," I finish.

Once again, he gives me very little time to worry about his reaction.

"Okay," he says, with an understated smile, a kind of expression I've only seen him have on a few occasions. "I'd like that. That sounds fun!"

He's clearly pleased, if a bit reluctant to admit it. Does that mean he's flattered? My mind races with possibilities.

As we head out onto the streets of Lumiose City, my heart flutters to see all the other couples out today. I wonder what Ash and I look like to them. I wonder if Ash notices that nearly everyone else around us is holding hands. I wonder if he has any idea how badly I want to hold his.

* * *

I'm not sure what I was expecting out of today. At least, not _realistically._ I had fantasies that Ash would find me irresistible and sweep me off my feet, but that was obviously just wishful thinking. Even though I put so much effort into setting up our day together, it played out like a long flashback to our shopping trip in Coumarine City.

Over and over again, I would show him something elegant or meaningful that interested me, and he would show me something zany that interested him. It's charming, to a degree, but that charm wears off when you try to show him a wedding cake as an obvious hint and he runs off to gawk at a birthday cake shaped like a Pikachu. Or when I'm showing off dresses to him and asking how I look, and meanwhile he's trying on every ridiculous hat in the store, one on top of the other.

Okay, I'll admit the hat thing was cute, but we're lucky we didn't get kicked out of the store.

Fortunately, we won't get kicked out of Prism Tower. Clemont runs this place. We're not truly at the top, because you can only get up there by a maintenance access hatch, according to Ash. From our vantage point, safely inside and looking out through the glass at the golden glow of the city, it's unbelievable to think that Ash threw himself off the top of this building. We're a bit lower than the top level, but this is easily the farthest off the ground I've ever been. I wouldn't say I'm afraid of heights, but looking down from here and thinking of that fall is unnerving.

It kind of makes me want to grab onto Ash for comfort, especially since I missed the opportunity while we were out earlier. Just like before, I was too nervous to take hold of his hand, doubly so with all of the happy couples around us who would see it if I failed. I think about his hand on my shoulder earlier today and wish that I had grabbed it back then.

There's a safety railing in front of the window, and the two of us are next to each other, leaning on it and waiting for the sun to finish disappearing behind the horizon. My heart has been solidly pounding for the last half hour. I told myself that I wasn't leaving this tower without telling Ash how I feel about him, and I'm running out of time.

I'm thinking about what I had planned for this part of our day. I have to get this started somehow.

"I almost forgot," I say, reaching into my bag. Ash looks at me curiously.

"Forgot what?" he asks.

"Just a second…" I say, carefully pulling the box out of my bag.

I hand the box to him. It's the box that held the ribbon he gave me. Just to jog his memory, I've used a strand of that very same ribbon to tie a bow around it.

"Ta-da!" I say, quite pleased with my work. "This is for you!"

Ash's eyes are wide. He seems astonished. I wonder if it's because he recognizes it.

"Thank you!" he says. He sounds surprised, but also grateful.

"Open it up!" I tell him, smiling in reassurance. He's still staring at it. It looks like he's starting to realize what it is.

"The ribbon…" he says ponderously. "This is the ribbon I gave you!"

I tousle my hair a bit, emphasizing the identical strand of blue ribbon in it.

"It is!" I say, thrilled that he noticed. "It's the same box, too, but there's something different in it now. Open it up and see!"

Ash is normally the type who would tear a box to pieces to get it open, but to my surprise, he's carefully untying the bow first. The ribbon comes loose and falls to the floor. He removes the lid.

"Hey! The macarons we made together!" he says.

He looks elated, and I'm blushing, hard.

"I…" I begin, nervously stumbling over my words. "Well, _we _made them together, but originally the plan was that… that I was going to make them _for you_."

I'm biting down on my lip. I feel jittery all over.

"Serena…" he says. He sounds like he's touched. "Thank you so much."

He looks at our macarons, ordered neatly in the box. Without any hesitation, he picks one out and pops the whole thing in his mouth. He starts chewing it, and then lets out an audible moan.

"Ash!" I exclaim, giggling in embarrassment.

"So good…" he says, his mouth rather full.

"Well I'm glad you like them, but don't choke!"

He finishes it and gulps it down.

"They're amazing!" he says breathlessly. "You should try one, too!"

"I couldn't," I say. "I gave them to you, so they're all yours. They're my gift to you!"

"Well, since they're all mine, I get to decide what to do with them, and I'm deciding to share one with you."

He pulls out another macaron and hands it to me. I have no choice but to accept it. I bite into it. To my immense relief, it's exquisite. I couldn't have made a better batch for him. It literally melts in my mouth. In a momentary lapse of composure, my eyes roll upward and I make a sound of pleasure much like Ash did. Now he's the one laughing.

"See! They're really good!" he says. "We did a good job."

"Yes we did," I say, looking at him almost slyly. It's cute that he insists on saying that _we _made them.

I finish my macaron in silence. The sun is almost completely behind the horizon now. The entire landscape, as far as we can see, is cloaked in orange and indigo.

The day is almost over, and so is my time.

A feeling of panic is building up in my heart. How am I supposed to do this? If I fail, everything is ruined! I'm not a risk-taker like Ash is. I tried to set this up to be as safe as possible, so that everything would go perfectly, but here, at the end, I'm still too afraid to do it.

I can feel my thoughts starting to spiral out of control. I can't blow this now. I _can't_. I try to focus on the advice Ramos shared with Ash. I've got to remain calm. Then, I can see the bigger picture.

What _is_ the bigger picture, anyway? I can see a very big picture in front of me right now. It's the Lumiose City skyline in near-twilight, stretching out for miles. I couldn't have asked for a more perfect scene to end our day together. Why did so many other things have to go wrong? Why did Ash have to walk in on me twice while I was cooking? Why did he have to be so dodgy and oblivious while we were out together? I wish, in my heart of hearts, that the answers are that he walked in because he cares about me and wanted to be with me and that he was being a goofball because he doesn't know how to share his feelings with me. Wishing gets me nowhere, though.

If those really are the answers, then did anything _really _go so wrong today? What if it just _looks _like things have been going wrong, but I've been too focused on the wrong things to realize that things have actually been going wonderfully well?

Ash is gazing wistfully at the horizon.

"Isn't it beautiful?" he says.

It _is _beautiful. Yet, I'm with a guy who I'm crazy about in the most romantic city in the world, and somehow I'm focusing on everything but that. It seems clear to me that I've missed the point. It doesn't matter if I avoid risks and try to make everything as perfect as possible, because things that I can't predict are still going to happen. I can't control everything. What matters is that I don't choose to live my life _being controlled_ by my fear.

"Ash, do you think _I'm_ beautiful?"

I'm staring longingly at him with what I'm sure must be fear in my eyes. I _am _afraid of what's about to happen, but I'm more afraid of never having a chance with him.

Ash turns his head toward me. His mouth is slightly open. He's surprised I would ask such a thing.

"Serena…" he says gently. He's taking this more seriously than I ever would have expected. My heart surely would have fluttered if it wasn't stopped cold right now. "You _are _beautiful."

Everything is silent. We're staring at each other, with so much unspoken emotion between us. I can't tell what's going on in his eyes, and I doubt he can tell what's going on in mine.

"Ash…" I begin. My voice is unsteady. I can see the concern in Ash's eyes when he hears my voice wavering. I can feel the emotion welling up in my eyes.

Not now. _Please_ not now. Please don't let me cry through this. I can shed all the tears in the world after it's over, just please not now.

I swallow my emotion, then cautiously continue.

"I… I _like _you."

My voice was still meek and unsteady, and it wasn't eloquent, but I finally said it. I don't know how I said it, because I can't remember the last time I breathed.

Ash is staring at me with a look I've never seen before.

"Do you mean…"

That was all he was able to say. It's fine, because I know what he means. Biting my lip, I nod.

A corner of his mouth raises. I notice that he looks a bit redder than usual. Suddenly finding it hard to look me in the eyes, he looks away from me, running his hand through his hair.

"Wow," he says, in a surprisingly pleasant tone. "I wasn't expecting that."

I can't speak. I want to ask him what that's supposed to mean, but I can't. My whole body, my whole _being _is frozen.

"I don't know what to say!" he says, laughing slightly, scratching at the back of his neck.

As if this were a laughing matter. I don't know what to say, either! Say _something! Please!_

"I'm really glad you told me. I don't think I ever would have been able to tell you. You know me! I'm not really good with, uh, _feelings._"

My heart is beating again. Vigorously.

"T-tell me what?" I hurriedly stammer. I have to know. I have to know _right now_.

Ash is looking uncharacteristically bashful all of the sudden. I can see it now. He's _blushing._

"That-" he begins, but suddenly pauses. It looks like he's literally _itching _to find the right words. "That I think you're really pretty and I really like you!"

He grins at me like a fool. I can feel all the features of my face moving upward.

"Does that mean-" I start to say, but so breathlessly that I can't even finish my sentence.

Ash nods excitedly. He's smiling widely.

I practically throw myself onto him, flinging my arms around him more so than giving him a proper hug. As I bury my head in his shoulder, and he wraps his arms around me, I feel like I'm where I've always wanted to be. Now, there are tears, but they feel better than anything I've ever felt.

Concerned, Ash pulls away from me to look.

"What's wrong?" he asks me.

I'm sure I must be confusing him like crazy, because despite the tears, I don't think I've ever smiled so hard. I tighten my grip on him and pull myself back onto his shoulder.

"Nothing's wrong, you goof!" I say into his shoulder, trying as best I can to wipe off my eyes. "I'm just so happy I could cry!"

"Are you sure you're alright?" he asks, a little confused.

"I am," I say. "I promise. Just give me a minute. Right here, like this."

"Okay."

I've got my arms around him and my head against his chest, and he's holding me. We're looking out over Lumiose City as dusk descends. As my tears come to a stop, I slip my hand into his. Our fingers lock together, finally, and my spirits ascend to heights I never could have imagined.

I can see our reflection in the window. We look so happy together.

Everything is perfect.


End file.
